Master no more
by T'ch'az
Summary: Malik thinks he's freed of Marik and has settled into a comfortable life with Ryou and Bakura. But when Marik reforms, how long can he keep up the charade? Angstshipping, Thiefshipping, hinted Deathshipping. The title isn't kinky just a working title.
1. Love that burns

Story Note: Here's the deal with this fic. It'll keep running as long as at least one person is enjoying it. So if you do like it, YOU NEED TO TELL ME :P.

DISCLAIMER: The plot of this story is original. Ryou, Marik, Malik, Bakura, Domino City and all other things directly Yu-gi-oh related are copyright of Kazuki Takahashi.

Malik stared into the storm brewing outside the window of the apartment he shared with Ryou and Bakura with a dreadful intensity, his piercing violet eyes watching the violence of nature's fury wrack Domino City. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and in its light Malik saw the reflection of an all too familiar spirit behind him. He closed his eyes and, as a peal of thunder shook the skies, reopened them within the darkened confines of his mind.

"So, I see you couldn't stay dead." Malik didn't so much say it as project the thought out to the other consciousness he could feel was in there.

"Is that the way you greet an old friend, Mailk?" Marik sneered

"Even if I were fool enough to call you a friend, demon, it would change nothing."

"You spurn _me_, Malik? You who called me into being in the first."

"That was years ago, Marik. I have no need of you now. Your hold is broken."

"Is it now?" Marik sounded amused and materialized directly in front of Malik, barely inches from his face with the Eye of Wujet gleaming balefully from his forehead. Malik involuntarily took a step backwards, startled by Marik's sudden appearance and reviled by the pure evil that emenated from him. "I can have you cowed and broken within seconds, Malik Ishtar. My grip on you is as strong as ever."

"I...I wasn't expecting you to take such a...physical...shape in my mind. Nothing more."

"Don't be foolish, Malik. Regardless of what you wish, I am you and I can take your body at any time I so desire."

"I don't have your hate anymore, Marik. You may still be me, but you are a fragment of your former power. A mere mirage of what I used to be." Malik was bold, triumphant. He wasn't going to let that..._thing_ beat him in his own mind.

"You don't understand, child. Perhaps I will demonstrate to you that your hate has not faded, no matter how you kid yourself." Marik stepped forward and grabbed Malik roughly by the collar, pulling him so close that the boy could feel the spirit's hot breath on his face. "Perhaps while you lie with that pretty host of the Thief."

"You wouldn't dare..." Malik gasped.

"Oh, I would, and I would continue to do so until you acknowledge who I am. Who you are."

"I've changed Marik. I'm not the same person I was during Battle City."

"No, Malik," Marik agreed, "you're weaker." With that, Marik tossed his lighter half to the ground. "I'll be seeing you, Malik. Next time...it won't be a courtesy call." Marik jeered as he faded away into the blackness and depths of Mailk's mind.

"Damn you, Marik." Malik called after his fleeing alter-ego. "Damn and curse you to the infinitesimal pits of the Shadow Realm."

Another flash of lightning brought Malik crashing back into his material body, jolting him to his senses and setting his heart aflutter. He quickly replayed the encounter in his mind, stopping in a lurch as he remembered Marik's threat to take control when he was with Ryou.

...Ryou! He had to be warned, so he and Bakura...wait. No. Bakura couldn't know about Marik's return. He would only take Ryou away from him, to protect his hikari...and himself.

Malik's heart pounded as he heard the door click softly open and footsteps padded almost silently towards him. Bakura was in control. As if Malik didn't need his problem compounded by the fact he now had to face an aeons-old spirit, who was quite probably cold, wet and irritable.

The light clicked on and Malik turned to face a very wet and bedraggled Bakura indeed. Even in that state, Malik couldn't help but admire the raw sexual energy that Bakura seemed almost to pulsate with. Locking eyes, violet to charcoal, Bakura straightened and his lip curled in a characteristic sneer.

"I know you are generally struck dumb by the sight of me, Malik, but would you stop gawking at my perfection and find me some dry clothing?"

Malik sighed. He was in one of _those_ moods again. Why was it never Ryou who was in control when Bakura was grumpy? Having two boyfriends in the same body really was quite disturbing. There were days where he would go to sleep cuddling the relatively tame form of Ryou and wake up next to the wild-haired, harsh-eyed Bakura. It was even worse when they were gripped in the throes of passion and Bakura decided it was his turn, particularly since the boy's whole physique shifted into Bakura's lithe and powerful body. The change was so distinct that Malik could often feel the muscles stretch, build and strengthen beneath the hikari's skin as Bakura took control, often at the most inopportune times or during inappropriate circumstances. He was beginning to suspect that the thief did it purely to irritate him and to tease Ryou.

"My clothes, Malik, preferably before these ones have dried." Bakura barked at him, a small puddle forming at his feet.

"If that happens then I don't really need to worry then, do I?" Malik grinned, tossing him a blanket off the couch and heading into the bedroom.

"Very funny," Bakura looked at the blanket in his hands, then at the water slowly soaking into the carpet beneath him, "Ryou isn't going to be very happy with about this, you know." Shrugging, he pulled the sopping clothes off and tossed them in the general direction of the laundry room before wrapping the large blanket around himself.

Malik pawed through a few drawers looking for Bakura's clothes, because the Spirit of the Ring was taller and broader than both himself and Ryou.

"Why can't those two keep their things seperate" He asked himself after rifling through yet another drawer that proved to contain nothing but Ryou's stuff. "Ah, here it is..." Malik said finally, pulling out a plain white shirt and blue jeans. He turned and went back to the loungeroom where he had left Bakura, kicking the discarded clothing further into the laundry. Bakura was right, Ryou would definitely be upset at the casual mess they were making of his meticulously clean apartment, but it was mostly Bakura's fault anyway, so they could argue about it in the soul room where he could avoid blame. Despite knowing the Bakura wasn't wearing anything, Malik still couldn't help but stop and stare when he saw the thief-king wearing nothing but a soft grey blanket.

"My...aren't we looking delicious today." Malik commented with a grin

"My, aren't we being obvious today." Bakura spat back. "Much as I would love to walk around naked for your personal pleasure, it isn't the warmest day outside and even us five thousand year old spirits will feel a slight chill."

"Come here and I can fix that for you."

"Give me my clothes and I'll tell Ryou that you made all this mess, and got his favorite blanket wet."

"Don't you mean 'or I'll tell Ryou'?"

"I know what I said."

"Either way, he's not stupid enough to believe that I did this when his body is the one that's all wet."

"He's asleep dumbass. You kept him up all last night, and the boy doesn't have all that much stamina. Besides, I'm not idiotic enough to make a non-plausible threat."

Malik blushed slightly when Bakura mentioned the 'fun' he and Ryou had had the previous night, but he wasn't going to lose this argument. "True, you're just plain idiotic." He couldn't resist the jibe; Bakura had walked right into that one after all.

"You're going to pay for that, Malik." Bakura snarled

"Only if you catch me first." Malik taunted as he jumped out of the white-haired man's reach, tossing Bakura's clothes aside and running down the hall.

Bakura growled in fury as his quarry fled into the bedroom and locked the door. Pissed off as he was, Bakura didn't hate Malik quite enough to break down the door. Calming himself, Bakura gathered his scattered clothing and proceeded to dress in front of the fire which, he noted, Malik had allowed to die down. Muttering to himself about leaving incompetent children in charge of the house, he stirred the embers and went to brew himself a pot of tea. Looking at the selection, Bakura opted for leaves. How Ryou and Malik could even stomach the pre-packaged crap that was in teabags, he would never understand, and as for sugar...he gagged just thinking about the ruined taste. Ryou's sweet tooth disgusted him almost as much as his soppy attachment to Malik did.

"You can come out now, Malik. I'm not going to kill you...for now."

The blond Egyptian poked his head around a corner, his lavender eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Malik. I'm sure."

"Well, it never hurts to check with you." Malik replied, carefully stepping into the room and slowly making his way to the couch where Bakura had settled down in front of the fire.

"You're safe with me, Malik. Ra knows what Ryou would do to me if I hurt you. Just remember to keep the fire going on days like this."

Malik sat down next to Bakura and nestled up against him. "I just forget to sometimes. We never needed a fire in Egypt."

"Well don't forget. I'm no real fan of being cold," he shrugged Malik off his shoulder, "and get off me. I'm not Ryou."

"But Bakura..." Malik pleaded, almost whining in disappointment.

"How many times have I told you, Malik? I'm not a very huggy person."

"Please, Bakura, you know I love you just as much as I do Ryou. Why aren't I allowed to be affectionate when you interrupt Ryou and I all the time?" Malik a angrily, rising from his seat.

Bakura drained the last dregs of his tea and set the cup down on the floor beside him, being very careful not to look Malik in the eye. At last he rose, towering over the tanned pretty-boy, finally meeting his eyes. "Because, tomb keeper, unlike you, unlike my host, I have seen horrors that you can never imagine. Unlike you, I know how dreadful the events of the past few years have really been. Unlike you, I understand what the word love means. Learn this, Malik Ishtar, and learn it well. I do not love you. You are amusing to me, and you have the requisite features to keep me entertained for some short while but I see what you still are. You are juvenile, you are young, and you are foolish. Despite everything you tell yourself otherwise, you are still vain and proud. Despite the thoughts Ryou consoles himself with every night as he rests uneasily in your clawing embrace you still contain the essence that formed the abomination, Marik. You, Malik, are a threat to me as long as you harbour the hatred in your soul. At any moment Marik could reform, and for that I can never love you." He explained himself calmly, as if telling a child, which, from his perspective, he was.

Tears welled up in Malik's eyes as Bakura's words drove into him, each one cutting deeper and deeper into his soul. Furiously he lashed out at Bakura, striking him with an open palm. "You...you say you can't love me out of some misguided loyalty to Ryou. I say you lie, Thief, I say you can't love me because you are incapable of love. You hide behind this new-found devotion to Ryou as an excuse for your inability to be human. You are just as much a being of hate as Marik is."

"You are right, Malik. I am not human. I am not even alive. I cannot feel the hot-blooded rush as the pair of you experience it." Bakura responded coldy, every last hint of warmth and understanding had fled from his voice as Malik poured out his accusation. "I am not, however, the demon you created. It was incapable of anything but rage. You may have defeated it, Malik Ishtar, but I am a far deadlier opponent. I would appreciate it if you would not sleep here tonight."

"What?" Malik exploded increduously, "This is my house as much as yours, Bakura. Even more so, as you are nothing but a shadow. I'm not going anywhere."

Bakura picked up his mug and walked over to the kitchen. "So be it, tomb keeper. Just remember that if I find you in this house tonight, I will kill you and wear the consequences."

"What have I done, Bakura? If anything I should be the one throwing you out. You are the one who insulted me..."

"...and you are the one who struck me, Malik. You are angry, you are childish, and you are impulsive. I can forgive you; perhaps I may even grow to love you...with time. But not for the moment. Go now and return in the morning, lest your anger get the better of you."

"You know what? Fine. I'm leaving." Malik declared, stomping down to his room and returning with a duffle bag and fistfuls of clothing. "Who knows when I'll come back? Explain that to Ryou. Try and keep your precious hikari safe and warm after that," he continued, stuffing the clothes into the bag to emphasize each word, "You've hurt me, Bakura, only you could be so cruel as to refuse me so utterly and then tear me away from Ryou." The furious teen slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and jerked the door open, "I'll be back...maybe."

Bakura cringed as the door slammed.

Author's note: As post-canon, this probably needs a touch of explanation. For the purposes of this fic, Bakura isn't a jerkass, at least, he controls it when around Malik and Ryou because he's now as much a part of Ryou's mind as Marik is to Malik. Malik's in Domino because he believes that the tomb and Items no longer need guarding. Also, I realize Malik tends to wander OOC every now and again, but he's a kid in love, give him a break eh? Well, that's about it from me, so please don't forget to pick up a little feedback slip and drop it in the box on your way out.

Cheers

T'ch'az

(Seriously though, the more you tell me, the more the story and I can improve.)


	2. Daybreak heartbreak

Story Note: Here's the deal with this fic. It'll keep running as long as at least one person is enjoying it. So if you do like it, YOU NEED TO TELL ME :P.

Also, my editor/beta and I prefer to read in paragraphs, but if the majority of you are turned off by that kind of formatting I'll redo it before uploading.

DISCLAIMER: The plot of this story is original. Ryou, Marik, Malik, Bakura, Yugi, Strings, Domino City and all other things directly Yu-gi-oh related are copyright of Kazuki Takahashi.

Rain streamed down Malik's face as he stalked the streets of Domino, a duffle bag over one shoulder, swearing to himself in Arabic and taking turns at random, leaving his apartment further and further behind. Malik was angry, beyond angry; he was furious. What right did Bakura have to throw him out of his own house? That bastard of a spirit had ejected him for asking a simple question, then being upset when it went unanswered.

The wind howled around his ears and Malik shivered. The rain was pouring down heavier than ever, and he was sure he was lost. In his haste to get away from Bakura he had taken so many twists and turns that he could no longer recognize any landmarks. He was cold, wet, and lost in an unfamiliar city. It was all Bakura's fault. He had driven him out and Malik knew well enough that the thief-king could keep him from coming back if he wanted to.

_What would Ryou do when he woke up?_ Malik stopped suddenly, _look for me, come hell or high water. I have to be back before that happens. I can't let Ryou put himself at risk, Bakura can't protect him forever. _Mailk's face twisted into a mask of fury, _Bakura, I swear I will kill you for this._

Laughter began to ring in the vaults of Malik's mind and the misshapen face of Marik swam into vision.

"_See Malik? What did I say? You need me."_

Malik gasped. He had forgotten all about Marik in his determination to make Bakura pay for hurting him, and now the demented fiend that was the embodiment of his darkest emotions had something to feed on.

"_I don't need anything from you, Marik."_

"_Yes you do, Malik. You want vengeance for what Bakura did. I can provide that."_

"_Stay out of my head, demon."_

"_Didn't we already have this discussion? I exist only in your mind, Malik. I just need you to let me out."_

"_Fine, shut the fuck up then."_

Marik gave an insane little cackle.

"_Hehehehehe, Malik's grown a little backbone."_

"_So help me, Marik, if you don't leave this instant I'll cauterize you out of my brain."_

"_You are in a mood, little Malik, aren't you? I'll go, but just remember I appreciate the nourishment." _With another mad chuckle Marik's presence disappeared.

Malik ducked into an alleyway to get out of the brutal wind and take advantage of the overhanging lips of the surrounding buildings to avoid the worst of the rain. His golden hair was lank and heavy with rain and the tall Egyptian shook himself like a dog to get the surface moisture off and stop it from dripping into his eyes. A wave of exhaustion hit him and he sank down against the wall, trying to get his bearings. 

Bakura sighed softly to himself as another bolt of lightning broke the skies and thunder rolled overhead. Malik was still too young to understand the implications of the word 'love'. It was Ryou whom he loved, of that Bakura had no doubt, but just because he shared the same body didn't mean that the love automatically passed on to him. What was there of Thief-King Bakura to love anyway? He was a criminal, a sadist, a somewhat civilized sociopath, none of them traits deserving of someone's love.

Bakura knew he had to face up to Ryou when he awoke, but hopefully that wouldn't happen before Malik came back in the morning...if he came back. That was one nagging doubt in Bakura's mind, the thought that Malik would make good on his threat to leave indefinitely. He knew that Ryou would almost certainly take off after him if he wasn't home sometime early tomorrow, and he was sure to have difficulty restraining the hikari. But he would deal with that when the time came.

With difficulty he left the front part of the house, gliding softly towards the bathroom thinking that a good soak would help him find a way to deal with the problems of tomorrow. The corner of his mouth twitched as he realized the irony of his desires. Having complained about being soaked through only minutes ago, Bakura now wanted to immerse himself in water again, albeit warm, soapy water instead of driving, freezing water. To complement the idea of warmth, he turned back to the kitchen to pour himself a tumbler of scotch. He frowned when he saw the only available variety was some bottle of Korean crap the cheap-skate Malik bought, but shrugged and poured a measure anyway.

Truth be told, Bakura didn't really dislike Malik, in fact he rather enjoyed the youth's company – not that he would ever admit it to him – and the encounter had upset him as well but it was necessary. The boy was spirited and Bakura knew how easily passion leads to jealousy, which would lead to anger, which would lead to hate, which spawned Marik, who could only bring suffering. The only responsible thing to do would be to get him away from the source of his anger until he had cooled down. Bakura made his way to the bathroom and opened the taps, quietly shedding his clothes and lowering himself into the bath. A good night's rest would prepare him for the inevitable fight with Ryou in the morning.

Malik woke with a start. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, he didn't even know he's gone to sleep but he had, and the storm was as fierce as ever, gale-force winds howling past the alleyway he had taken shelter in and blowing all manner of light objects around the city. He shivered and glanced down at his watch.\

_Shit..._he thought,_ It's almost 10_ _...I need to find somewhere safe, though how I'm still breathing after sleeping here is a miracle._

He stood up and at once realized just how cold it had become. A hand dove into his bag and began rummaging for a coat; it brushed up against the soft, wool-lined leather collar of his favourite jacket and whipped it out. Malik pulled it on, flipped the collar up and zipped it up so that only the very top of his neck was showing. Thus prepared, he stepped out into the street and made his way to the nearest street sign. To his horror, Malik discovered he didn't recognize the name and couldn't find anything that looked even vaguely familiar.

His heart began to beat faster and he turned this way and that, looking for a hotel or anything still open that might have a map as panic set in. Taking a deep breath, Malik turned and briskly walked back down the way he had came, hoping that he would be able to find the path he had taken...but he stopped just as soon as he had started, for he didn't know where he _could _go.

He knew it was impossible to return home, but where else was there to turn? Should he make his way to Yugi's house? Though the idea disgusted him, he knew that Yugi would not turn him away. Malik rifled through his pockets, turning out a few yen, but not enough to get a room at anywhere he would feel comfortable sleeping and still have the money to survive until both his and Bakura's tempers had settled. The storm raged overhead and he knew that whatever he decided, he would have to do so quickly.

"I may as well get to somewhere I know, and decide from there." Malik muttered, voicing his thoughts as if that would help him find a solution. "I'll go to Yugi, at least for tonight so he can let Ryou know I'm safe." Keeping Ryou at home...that was the most important thing. Malik could handle himself for a few days, but the naive, innocent boy he loved with all his heart couldn't survive an hour once Bakura had exhausted himself. As the rain continued to pour Malik set off down the street again.

At the first intersection he heard raucous laughter and saw the glint of red lanterns down the left-hand path, sparking a memory and a breath of hope. Malik remembered from Bakura's stories that the red-light district was on the western edge of the city, and he knew that Yugi lived in the southern suburbs. Assuming that the streets were running on perfect axes, he reasoned, the left hand path was due west and the direction he was heading was due south. Malik picked up his pace a little, continuing down the street he was following and making sure not to lose his bearings again. He knew that even if he were right it would only put him in the right general area of Domino City. Still, it was better than nothing.

After a few hours of walking, Malik found further reassurance that he was headed in the right direction. It was the park where he had duelled against the Pharaoh through Strings and lost Slipher to him, which he knew to be in the southern part of the city. He was getting closer to a temporary refuge. Closer to Ryou. Malik weighed up the option of cutting through the park, particularly seeing as it was likely to have a local map, against the likelihood of meeting the unsavoury types that tended to gather in places like this late into the night. Seeing he was tired and not in the mood to have to fight or weasel his way out of a sticky situation, he decided against it, preferring instead to skirt its edges and carry on once he had returned to a southerly position. The storm had finally blown over and Malik could faintly see Polaris off in the distance.

Now that he actually had a static point of reference, Malik was much more adventurous in the turns he took, wandering down any street that seemed familiar, always being careful not to venture north. As far as he could tell, he was somewhere in the southwest of the city, probably closer to the outskirts as he did not often head eastwards. The only problem now was the race against time and fatigue. The night was drawing on and each step was becoming harder and harder for him to take; even the thought of Ryou was beginning to lose its rejuvenating effect. Eyes half closed, Malik continued to stumble through the darkness of Domino's streets as he made his way into the suburbs and the streetlights became less and less frequent as they began to power down in the early hours of the morning

Ryou rolled over in his sleep, dreaming of the tall, tanned, blonde bombshell that had made every moment of his existence worth living. As his subconscious recalled the smell of his hair of a warm summer's afternoon, the warmth of his skin as they had huddled together in this very bed as a savage winter storm ravaged the city, and the taste of his full lips, he reached over to where his perfect lover was sleeping...

...and his hand came down on empty air.

Grunting a little, he stretched out a little further...

...and still met no body.

Ryou's eyes flicked open as his fingertips brushed the edge of the bed. He was alone. He frowned, not only was Malik not an early riser in any sense of the word, he would not have left without leaving a note or letting him know he had left. The sleepy and tousled-haired boy flicked on the lamp that stood on a bedside table, wincing at the sudden brightness as he threw back the bed covers and glanced around the room for some sign of Malik's leaving.

It was then that he saw the clothing scattered across the bedroom floor and a horrible feeling welled up in him. Hoping that he was wrong, Ryou checked for Malik's bag.

It was gone.

Ryou's heart sank. Malik had left him. Without a note, without anything. He couldn't bring himself to accept that. Malik loved him. In the months they had been together, he had certainly said it enough and never seemed to want be separated from him. Yet, this was the scene he had woken up to. A scene he had seen all too often in the TV dramas he tended to watch. Malik had left in the middle of the night, as though all these months had been nothing but a one night stand.

Tears welled up in his great chocolate brown eyes, his heart breaking just as he had thought he had finally healed its many wounds. This couldn't have happened. Not with Malik. Not unless...

Bakura.

What had his yami said? What had he done? Closing his eyes, Ryou entered his mind's eye and faced the door to Bakura's soul room. Softly he knocked on the door of the sleeping spirit, but he got no response.

"Bakura," he called through the door, knocking a little louder. "Bakura, can I speak with you, please."

There was a pause and then a handle materialized in front of Ryou. He twisted it and walked into Bakura's soul room. It was bare and dark, with only two thin sheets of cotton to serve as a bed, and a small oil lamp that the occupant lit as his hikari approached.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I?" the smaller boy asked, nervously approaching the lean, muscular man on the makeshift bed.

Bakura looked away from the trusting soul in front of him, "No, Ryou. I was expecting you sooner or later."

"You were expecting me? 'Kura, does this mean you know what happened to Malik?"

"I...I know something of what happened to him. You might want to take a seat."

As he spoke a comfortable armchair forced its way into existence in front of Ryou, its soft cushions looking absurdly out of place in this most spartan of rooms.

"Why...?" Ryou asked, tears beginning to form in his eyes as the unthinkable made itself known to him "is...is what I fear true? Has he left us, Bakura?"

"No, child. He hasn't left us, at least...not in the way you fear. Please, sit down before I answer you."

Ryou did as his darkness had requested and took a seat in the chair, though he did not relax. Caught in the action of wiping the tears from his eyes, an even more horrible thought occurred to him. "Hasn't left...in the way I fear...he's not...he's not..." he couldn't bring himself to say it and instead sobbed quietly.

"No he isn't...at least...I'm reasonably sure he isn't."

"Than what do you mean, Yami? Where is he?"

Bakura found he suddenly couldn't meet those huge, innocent brown eyes. Eyes that would soon cloud with judgement and hate him for what he was about to say.

"Ryou," the spirit started, before staring at the floor, unable to speak.

"'Kura, please..."

"Ryou, you deserve the truth. You're going to hate me forever for it, but I'm not going to lie to you. Not about this. Malik and I, we...we had a...disagreement."

Ryou gaped at him in disbelief. "You didn't...didn't do anything horrible, did you Bakura?"

"No...Well, I don't know. Nothing permanent, anyway."

Ryou stared at the older man, feeling a bubbling anger rising up in him, an anger he had never felt before. "Answer me, Bakura. You've been giving half answers and avoiding the real question. Tell me what happened to my Malik."

Bakura took a deep breath before continuing. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. "Malik's gone, Ryou. He and I had an argument. We both said some things that should have been left unmentioned and then...he hit me." Bakura brushed his hand against the side of his jaw where Malik's blow had landed. "He hit me and I told him...I told him..." He found he could not say any more. His tongue refused to move.

Ryou was dumbstruck, but he feared the worst was to come, which was why Bakura was hesitating. "What did you tell him, Bakura?"

"I told him to leave, to get out of the house and that if I saw him inside again, I would kill him."

"YOU DID WHAT! Ryou screamed, lunging for the ancient spirit and pinning him against the floor. "You, a ghost, a memory, a fragment of my mind, told him to get out of his own house?"

"Would you believe he said much the same thing last night?" Bakura smiled wanly, grabbing Ryou's wrists as the enraged hikari attempted to strangle him.

"Where did he go, Bakura? Where did he go?" Ryou demanded, grabbing hold of Bakura's shoulders and shaking him to emphasize each word.

"I don't know, Ryou. He just said 'Fine. I'll be back...maybe. Explain that to Ryou' and left.

"Damn right, explain that to Ryou. What time was this?"

"I don't know. Late afternoon or early evening sometime. 6'o'clock, maybe."

"And you haven't heard from him since? You bastard, Bakura. Atem was right, you're nothing but a thief." Ryou cried as he jumped off of Bakura and ran out of the room.

Bakura felt the boy return to the real world and immediately attempted to wrest control of their body from him. Ryou, however, was in no mood to comply with Bakura and resisted every attempt he made. As Ryou approached the front door, Bakura materialized in spirit form in front of him.

"Ryou, please listen to me." The yami pleaded

"Listen to the man who drove Malik, the only person in the whole world I truly give a damn about, out of his own home and forced him to wander the streets all night? Snowball's chance in hell, Bakura."

"Ryou, if you rush out now, what happens if Malik comes home? You know he'll set off looking for you and then both of you will be lost and alone."

"I'll take my phone."

"Suppose he's forgotten your number?

"Why would he, he can just look it up on his."

"Ryou, are you even thinking straight anymore? Malik doesn't have a phone."

That stopped Ryou in his tracks. Bakura was quick to seize the advantage. "Please, Ryou. Just give him two hours. Then we will go looking for him."

"Two hours. After that, nothing you can say will stop me, and if so much as one hair on his head has come to harm Bakura, you will pay for it."

Author's note: First off, I apologise for the Star Wars reference but I had watched that movie just before I wrote the paragraph and as soon as Bakura thought those thoughts, the wisdom of the muppet with poor syntax popped straight into my head. I do hope Malik's attempts to finding his way back worked the way I wanted them to, but the only way I can really know is if you reacted to it the way I wanted you to, that and the last scene with Bakura and Ryou. I wanted Bakura to tell Ryou the truth instead of feeding him lies was because a) he did feel bad about what he'd done and b) he knew that telling lies would just come back and bite him in the ass sooner or later. Oh, and something I forgot: Marik is a reflection of Malik's state of mind. So when he's distraught, such as his appearance here, Marik will be a bit more wacko than when Malik's calm, which makes him more calculation and cruel. Anyways, drop me a line about how you feel about the story and the characterization.

Cheers

T'ch'az

(Seriously though, the more you tell me, the more the story and I can improve.)


	3. Love him madly, need him badly

Story Note: Here's the deal with this fic. It'll keep running as long as at least one person is enjoying it. So if you do like it, YOU NEED TO TELL ME :P.

DISCLAIMER: The plot of this story and some areas of Domino City are original. Yu-gi-oh is copyright of Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

The incessant, high pitched chiming was starting to get on his nerves. Yugi wrapped his pillow around his head, attempting to drown out the sound as his hand fumbled for the snooze button. He pressed it, but to no avail.

"Yugi, turn your alarm off." Anzu muttered as she rolled over in her sleep.

Growing more frustrated, Yugi smashed the top of the clock with his fist, but the chiming just would not end. It was only after he ripped the plug out of its socket that it clicked. _It's not the clock_, his sleepy self concluded, _so what is it?_

His question was answered by a bellow from Jonouchi "Yug, answer the fucking door. I'm trying to sleep here."

The door? Yugi pulled himself up a little so he could check the time, realizing moments later that he had unplugged his clock. He tried to drop back down and go to sleep, but the doorbell would not stop ringing. Reluctantly he rolled out of bed and pulled a dressing gown on, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and making his way downstairs. He glanced at the clock on the wall and started. It was 5am. Who on earth would be ringing his doorbell so persistently at five in the morning? As far as he knew, everyone was home; they had their own keys anyway, so it had to be someone else.

Now, it wasn't in Yugi's nature to be irritable, but even he wasn't exactly chipper at being woken up at such an ungodly hour as this. Whoever was at that door had better have a very good reason for not leaving it until they were more likely to have woken up. He stood on tip-toe to look through the peephole, but it was obscured by something and Yugi could make neither hide nor hair of whom or what was out there. Yawning, he jerked the door open and was astounded to find a sound asleep Malik standing on his front porch.

He was even more shocked when the tall Egyptian toppled over on top of him.

"Malik," Yugi screamed as the other boy fell onto him, still snoring contentedly, "what in the nine hells are you doing here...and why the fuck are you sleeping on me?"

Malik awoke in surprise and quickly rolled off Yugi in embarrassment. "Yugi...I..."

"It's 5-fucking-am Malik. What the hell are you doing _sleeping_ on my door?" Gods he was pissed. 18-year-old boys are not generally morning people, and Yugi was no exception. Being crushed by a sleeping boy a good foot taller than him was not improving his mood.

"By the gods, Yugi, I've been walking all night. Could you cut a guy just a little slack?"

Yugi's bad mood halted in its tracks "Walking...why?" He glanced out the door curiously, "Where's Ryou or Bakura?"

"I'll tell you everything if you let me sleep for a few hours."

"Geez, it must be something pretty spectacular. The couch over there folds out. I'll make sure Anzu leaves something for you."

"Thanks, Yugi. Now go away."

"That's not very polite, Malik."

"Would I be here if I had anywhere else to go? I did spend a good couple of years trying to kill you, remember."

"Yeah, kinda hard to forget that," Yugi shuddered as he remembered some of the atrocities Malik and Marik had perpetrated.

"Now please, let me sleep."

"Okay, just remember you promised to tell me what this is all about." Yugi called, turning back up the stairs and preparing to hunker down for another few precious hours of sleep.

"What was it, Yugi honey?" Anzu asked as he climbed back into bed.

"Just Malik asleep on the doorbell."

"Oh? What did he want?"

"A place to sleep. He says he'll explain in the morning...later in the morning."

"Hm."

It must've been a Thursday; Yugi always had trouble understanding Thursdays.

Sometime later, Malik was curled up in his borrowed bed with a strong mug of coffee in his hands. 'Team Happy', as he thought of the four, were scattered around the room, watching him inquisitively. Not without good reason, of course. After all, who wouldn't wonder what a former mortal enemy was doing unannounced on their doorstep early one morning?

Yugi was the first one to break the increasingly awkward silence. "So, um...Malik...why exactly were you here this morning?"

"I needed a place to sleep."

"So you said. But, um...why weren't you at home or at least with Bakura?"

Malik sighed. He would have to tell them about it because how else was he going to get his message to Ryou? "Bakura and I had a fight and he kicked me out."

Everyone in the room let out a collective cry of "What?"

"Exactly what I said. Gods, I'm beginning to suspect that Bakura was right about you lot being complete idiots."

"I am so gonna kick Bakura's ass." Jonouchi said from his seat in the kitchen.

"What we mean, Malik," Anzu cut in, "is why would he do that?"

"Because Bakura's a prick." Jonouchi spat.

"Surprisingly, Jonouchi's pretty close to the truth." Malik answered "I said some decidedly unfair things to him and he just told me to leave."

"Are you going to go back?"

Malik thought about it for a moment. If he went back, he ran the risk of finding Bakura still in a bad mood, and he hadn't forgiven the spirit for throwing him out in the first place yet. "No...At least, not for a little while." Then the real reason he had come to Yugi in the first place hit him. "Say, could you guys do something for me?"

"Kick Bakura's sorry ass? Sure, come on Honda." Jonouchi said, standing up.

"Sit down, Jonouchi," Yugi snapped, "what do you need, Malik?"

"Could you give Ryou a call, please? Just tell him I'm safe and I'll be home...soon. Tell him...give him my love and all that."

Yugi smiled as he realized how much Malik really cared about Ryou. He surmised that was the only reason he even came here, just to get a message to Ryou. "Sure, but what are you going to do? We can put you up for a few days if you need..."

"If we can put up with him..." Jonouchi muttered under his breath.

Malik looked into Yugi's wide, friendly eyes before refusing the offer. "No thankyou, Yugi. I need some time by myself."

"Okay, but then where will you go?"

"I might get a room at the Plaza. That's cheap enough and decent enough for a day or so."

"Right, so do you want me to tell Ryou where you're going?"

"No...no, he'll only come looking for me."

"Alright."

Malik drained the last of his coffee and forced himself to stand up. The few hours sleep of had given him enough strength to make it to the Plaza Hotel, which was only a few dozen blocks away, nothing compared to the distance he had walked the previous night. "Well, I'd best be leaving then."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. Any longer around blondie over there and one of us would have done something unpleasant." With that, Malik went to the door and left.

"Good riddance." Jonouchi said after the door had closed.

"Jonouchi, what exactly is your problem with him?" Yugi rounded on his friend.

"Yug, he's a sick fucking faggot and, in case you've forgotten, the bastard mind-raped me and forced me to duel you."

"That's not a very nice thing to say about someone Jonouchi."

"He's not a very nice person, so I think it's deserved." He looked over at Honda. "Let's blow this joint, Honda. I feel the need for a stiff drink."

"You do realize what time it is, Jonouchi?" Honda asked.

"Yeah, but it's 5 o'clock somewhere, right?"

"True." Honda replied as he followed Jonouchi out the door.

"You two stay away from Malik!" Yugi called after them. He turned to Anzu "I'm gonna give Ryou a ring and tell him what's happened."

"Sure, honey. I'll be in the tea-room if you want me."

* * *

"How long's it been?" Ryou demanded of Bakura

"20 minutes, Ryou. Try and have some patience." Bakura replied, yawning.

"You might not care about him, but _I_ do. Telling me to relax and be patient when neither of us have the slightest idea of where he's gone or what's happened to him is not going to work."

"I know, but getting yourself worked up about it isn't going to solve any problems. You may as well take the opportunity to rest up."

"How can you just be so callous about this? It's all your fault after all." Ryou accused.

The thief-king sighed because, of course, Ryou was right. "I don't know, maybe because I spent thousands of years waiting for someone to pick up that accursed ring. Patience is one of my few virtues. I said I'd help look for Malik, and I will. In two hours."

Ryou ground his teeth in impotent frustration. It galled him to sit idly at home when he didn't have the slightest idea where Malik was or if he was hurt, or anything. Bakura may dislike Malik but he could have at least shown some compassion about how he was feeling. He began to pace, one eye on the clock, one eye on the door, his mind going into overdrive, formulating plans and search patterns to find his beloved boyfriend.

"How lo..."

"30 minutes. Sit down."

"No."

"You're only going to wear yourself out."

"So you say I should sit there and..." he saw Bakura rest his head on the chair and close his eyes, "...sleep? How on earth do you think I can possibly sleep at a time like this?"

"Easy, you let everything go until the time comes to set to work."

"Fatalism?"

"As I said, five thousand years in conscious stasis will do a lot to your philosophy, and it's actually pragmatism."

"Who cares what it's called? It's wasting time in the Grand Philosophical Theory of A Malik-less Ryou."

"A _panicked_ Malik-less Ryou." Bakura corrected. "Panicking isn't going to do you any good, little one, so you may as well relax."

"How..."

"33 minutes, and I swear, if you ask me that question once more, I will take control and lock you in your room until the time is up." Bakura barked, his patience finally snapping.

"Can you even do that?"

"Do you want to find out?"

Ryou decided to keep his mouth shut. Unable to find anything to do and not wishing to tempt fate by staying near Bakura, the boy went upstairs to tidy. He often found himself cleaning when he was stressed, and this definitely counted as stressed. As he picked up Malik's scattered clothes, he couldn't help but hug them close, trying to absorb every last bit of Malik he could. Ryou didn't dare think about what would happen if they couldn't find Malik. He didn't know how much money the Egyptian had taken with him, as everything he valued was hidden away in secret compartment and Ryou hadn't the heart to go through it. He sighed as everything was restored to its rightful place, and the first hour still wasn't up. He started downstairs.

The phone started to ring.

"Ryou," Bakura shouted, "get down here and answer the phone."

Ryou didn't need telling twice. He tore down the stairs and nearly knocked over the table the phone sat on in his haste to answer it. Eagerly he picked up the receiver.

"Malik?"

"Ryou?" It was Yugi's voice on the other end. The hope that had briefly soared in his heart died almost as quickly.

"Yugi?" He couldn't help but sound disappointed, "How can I help you?"

"Actually, it's about Malik."

"You've seen him?" Ryou almost shouted

"He was here a little while ago."

"He 's with you?" Ryou whooped with joy. Malik was safe and with Yugi.

"He's gone now, but he was."

"Gone? Where is he then?"

"He...he didn't want me to tell you."

"He didn't?"

"He just wanted me to tell you he was safe and he'd be home soon."

"He would?" Ryou was dumbstruck by the fact that Malik didn't want him to know where he was, but overjoyed at the same time that he would be coming home.

"Yeah. He wanted me to tell you he loves you and he'd be home soon." Yugi seemed to hesitate on the other end.

Ryou beamed at the message, but the heard the hesitation. "What else did he say?"

"He didn't say anything else, but..."

"But what?"

"Malik's gone to the Plaza to stay for a day or so. I know he didn't want me to tell you, but Jonoushi and Honda are out there, and I'm worried for him."

Ryou's eyes turned flinty at the mention of Jonoushi. He knew of his opinions on himself and Malik. "Thankyou, Yugi. I'll meet him there."

"Just get him home safely, Ryou. I care about him too."

"I just wish he'd realize not everyone hates him because he tried to take over the world. Thanks again, Yugi. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Ryou."

Ryou turned to where Bakura was sitting. "You were listening, I presume?"

The spirit shimmered and Ryou felt him return into his mind.

_I heard. Let's go._

* * *

The Plaza hotel was just ahead, and Malik shouldered his way through the crowded streets as he approached. The Plaza wasn't a luxurious hotel by any stretch of the imagination, but it was cheap and reliable, which was exactly what Malik was looking for. As its name suggested, the hotel sat overlooking a large plaza featuring a picturesque little fountain and several nice little cafes. He and Ryou had often come here when they had first started dating. It was beneath that fountain that he had first uttered those three fateful words that had turned his life around.

Malik couldn't help but be saddened by the sight of that fountain. So many happy memories had been forged there, and now he must stay in a room overlooking it, unable to return to the source of those memories. He sighed and continued towards the hotel. Its whitewashed stone walls were chipped and faded; the badly scratched sign announced the plentiful vacant rooms available and Malik smiled wryly. If the kind elderly couple that owned the hotel would charge a bit more for the rooms they could afford to redo the signage and paintwork, but they would lose much of their current clientele due to the raised prices. It was a classic catch-22. It hardly mattered to Malik, though. Those who knew of the Plaza knew that the outward appearance belied the true nature of the place, and they knew that there would always be a room at the Plaza.

He stepped through the front door and was greeted by the enthusiastic voice of the old man that had helped him so much when he had first arrived in Domino.

"Master Ishtar, I didn't think I'd be seeing so welcome and frequent a guest back here."

"Your hospitality is legendary, Mister Hiroyasu. Anytime I need a room, I think immediately of you."

"You are always welcome here, my boy." The old man looked at him quizzically, "I thought you had your own place though."

"Rent difficulties, Mister Hiroyasu." Malik lied glibly.

"Please, Master Ishtar, call me Shinjo."

"As you wish, Shinjo. Would I be able to have a room for tonight?"

"Of course, of course," the old man clapped his hands delightedly, "come over to the desk and we'll sort something out."

Malik followed the wizened old man over to the reception desk. His first real friend in Domino was a short, wrinkled old man with the drooping moustache that seemed ubiquitous in men his age. Every little movement Shinjo made was done with a youthful exuberance that belied his years and he treated everyone he met like a friend, always generous. He reminded Malik a little of Yugi, but not as sickeningly sweet.

"Would you like any room in particular, Master Ishtar?" Shinjo asked

"Hmm? Oh, no thankyou, Shinjo. Anywhere will be fine." Malik pulled out the cash he had in his pockets and began counting it out, "Will this cover me?" he had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be enough.

Shinjo looked at the pitifully small pile and smiled at him "It will be enough, Master Ishtar. You are welcome to dinner at 7"

"Thankyou, Mr. Hiroyasu, I would be delighted." Malik returned the smile, glad that Shinjo's generosity and hospitality had not diminished in the least. Graciously, he accepted the room key and took his leave of the kindly old man who, though he did not know it, had started Malik down the long road to redemption. Taking his bag, Malik retreated to his room and collapsed onto the bed.

* * *

_Do you remember the way to the Plaza?_

_It's at the same spot Malik and I shared our first kiss, 'Kura. It's not a place I'm likely to forget_

_Just checking, I don't need you getting us lost._

Ryou tore through the streets, his heart pounding in his ears as adrenaline rushed through his veins, fuelling each step and propelling him to greater exertions. There was the park. He was getting close now. Malik had only been gone for a few hours but it already felt as though he had been missing for weeks. He just hoped that he wasn't still angry at Bakura.

_He probably is, you realize._

_I can't say I'll blame him if he is._

Bakura let him run in silence for a few more streets.

_Out of curiosity, Ryou, why are we running?_

_What the hell do you mean 'why are we running'?_

_Well, we know where Malik is going, and he's not likely to go anywhere else today, so why exhaust ourselves?_

_You heard what Yugi said. Jonouchi and Honda are on the prowl._

Ryou could sense Bakura's sneer of contempt as clearly as though he were beside the boy

_A couple of ignorant fools. What possible threat are they to Malik?_

_He's tired, Bakura, he's not going to be capable of fighting. That's why we need to hurry._

_If you say so._

The midafternoon sun was shining down on Ryou as he finally fought through the bustling streets of the city and onto the quiet calm of the plaza. He slowed his steps as a flood of memories washed over him. The plaza was where the magic had first begun, the place he and Malik had finally confessed their love for one another. He could feel Bakura gag as the spirit was subjected to the memories.

_If you're going to go on such a sickening nostalgia trip, could you at least keep it private?_

_You feel just as strongly about him as I do, 'Kura, so don't pretend otherwise._

_Shut your mouth, hikari._

Ryou grinned as he came out the victor of the encounter and made his way towards the squat, whitewashed building that overlooked the rest of the plaza. He knew Malik was on good terms with the old couple who owned the place and would've been able to get a room no matter how much he had on him. The white-haired teen gently pushed the door open and walked up to the counter, tapping the service bell.

A short, balding old man emerged from the room behind the reception desk and beamed at him.

"Good afternoon, young master. How may I help you?"

"A friend of mine is supposed to be staying here. Has Malik Ishtar booked a room?"

"A friend of Master Ishtar, are you? Yes, he's here. Room 17, straight up the stairs, on your right."

"Thankyou, sir." Ryou inclined his head slightly as he made his way up the stairs, forcing himself not to run. This was it. He would be reunited with Malik, Malik and Bakura would make up, and everything would go back to normal.

He neared the top of the stairs and almost bolted towards the room the man had said was Malik's. Ryou tried the handle, only to find it locked.

Malik had been asleep for hours. What woke him was the sharp rat-tat of someone knocking on his door. He groaned. Was it seven already? Of course not, the sun was still bright. Then who could it be?

He picked himself off of the bed and walked over to the door. Shojo must have something important to tell him, or something along those lines. He turned the key and opened the door.

Ryou burst through the door and rushed into the startled Egyptian's arms, covering his face with kisses and sobbing loudly. Malik could do nothing but stand in amazement. "Ryou? What...how..." but he couldn't get any more out as the distraught boy pressed his lips firmly against Malik's, silencing him. The blonde Egyptian wrapped his arms around the smaller boy's body as he surrendered to his lover's embrace.

After several minutes, Ryou finally broke away. "Malik," he breathed, looking deep into his partner's soft lavender eyes. His face hardened and his eyes turned steely, "Don't you ever leave again. Not for any reason. I've been sick with worry about you. What if you'd been hurt?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly my idea." Malik said, glaring at the spirit form of Bakura, who had remained outside the door.

"I don't care whose fault it was you left, don't ever do it again."

Malik stared hard at Bakura, before taking Ryou in his arms once more, holding him close and placing a kiss on his forehead. "I promise I won't, Ry. It hurt me just as much to be separated from you."

"Did you know what I thought, when I woke up and you weren't there? I...I thought you'd left me. I...I was..."

"Don't ever think that, Ryou. I would never leave you, no matter what it costs me, no matter what Bakura does to me. I've lived too long without love to ever go back to it."

"I'm holding you to that, Malik." Ryou smiled as he pulled the love of his life into a soft kiss.

"If you two are quite done," Bakura grunted, "we need to leave if you want to get home before dark."

Malik gently broke away from Ryou and stepped forward to face the thief-king. "You don't have much say in what we do and don't have to do, thief."

"Would you like to be separated from your precious Ryou again?"

Ryou clung fiercely to the back of Malik's jacket, fearful that Bakura would make good on his threat, "I'm not going anywhere, Bakura. Wherever Malik goes, I'm going."

"Which means he and I are staying here for as long as we want. You can go fuck yourself for all I care."

"Dangerous ground, tomb keeper." Bakura growled warningly.

"Please, don't fight. This is what started all of this."

Malik turned his back on the spirit. "You're right. Fuck off Bakura, neither of us wants you here."

"Malik," Ryou cried, "I didn't mean that. 'Kura, please don't get upset."

"If that fool can control his tongue for five minutes I mightn't"

"Why can't you two just get along?" The poor boy was almost in tears as he watched his yami and his soulmate square off against one another, "Please, just apologise for last night."

"I will if he does."

"Malik, please."

Malik looked into Ryou's huge, dark eyes, pleading with him to just forgive Bakura and let it go. No matter how angry he was with the boy's yami, he couldn't resist that gaze for long.

"Fine, but only for you, Ry." Malik turned back to Bakura, "I apologise for what I said last night. It was moderately uncalled for."

"Apology accepted, tomb keeper, but I haven't forgiven you for it."

"I didn't expect you to, and neither have I. But for Ryou's sake, let's pretend we have."

"Done, are you happy with that, hikari?"

Ryou sighed. It would take a long time for the pair to reconcile properly. "It's a start," he linked arms with Malik, "let's go."

"Actually," Malik said, closing the door as Bakura dematerialized, "seeing as I've got a room for the night here, and Mr Hiroyasu has invited me to dinner, we may as well stay."

Ryou nuzzled into Malik's embrace, kissing the boy's long, slender neck. "Then we'll stay. I daresay you've done enough walking for a while, anyway."

Malik grinned viciously, "That I have, but don't be expecting to get much sleep tonight Ry." He said, stretching down to the bed and pulling Ryou in for a deep kiss.

* * *

Author's note: Yay, warm and fuzzies for everyone xD. Except for Jonouchi fans, but hey, I need minor antagonists. So, Malik was reunited safely with Ryou and there's hot buttery sex for all involved that I'm just going to fade to black for xD. As we go along with this thing I'm going to be fleshing out various parts of Domino, which means "yay, original characters and stuff in a fanfic." Oh, and I'm aware that plazas are almost exclusively Spanish and Italian, so sue me, they're in little Italy. :P Now be good readers and write reviews so I'll write the next chapter faster, and they also make my day so please do.

Cheers

T'ch'az

(Seriously though, the more you tell me, the more the story and I can improve.)


	4. The Struggle Within

Story Note: Here's the deal with this fic. It'll keep running as long as at least one person is enjoying it. So if you do like it, YOU NEED TO TELL ME :P.

DISCLAIMER: The plot of this story and some areas of Domino City are original. Yu-gi-oh is copyright of Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Malik lay awake, quietly watching the sleeping form of Ryou beside him. A shaft of pale moonlight pierced a crack in the curtains and accentuated the boy's almost-albino features. The whiteness of his skin contrasted strongly with the bronzed tan of Malik's and he couldn't help but reflect on how appropriate it was for the hikari to be so. Ryou was a light, pure as fresh fallen snow, the literal opposite of his darkness, Bakura. It made sense for something so wholesome to be represented by the strikingly porcelain figure of Ryou. Malik grimaced at his own skin-tone, though he also was a light, he was not the epitome of purity that Ryou was. Indeed, Malik was very nearly his own yami, his darkness simply the conjugation of his darkest thoughts with the absence of self-control, a situation he could never allow to happen again.

He closed his eyes and smiled, it was an expression he was still getting used to, but one he enjoyed. Ryou, cute as ever, had been awkward when Malik had taken him down to his dinner with the Hiroyasu's, not wanting to intrude on the hospitality of the old couple who had invited Malik. Shojo had simply smiled and waved Ryou into the seat next to him, engaging the shy teen in conversation the whole night as Malik watched and charmed Mrs Hiroyasu with his esoteric tales of Egypt and a dozen stories about his travels across Europe armed with a backpack and his motorbike. The night was filled with her laughter, good, simple food, sake and Ryou's shy smiles. Malik could feel warmth spread inside him every time he looked across and saw his lover blushing from the attention Shojo was paying him or attempting to hold from bursting out with laughter at some of the yarns Shojo was spinning and the amusing yet moral punch lines they contained. He reached over and ran a gentle hand through the boy's hair, resisting the temptation he always felt to lean over and kiss him, just once or twice.

After dinner, as Ryou was helping Mrs Hiroyasu clear the table and wash the dishes, Shojo had refilled his and Malik's cups and beckoned the Egyptian to follow him onto a balcony overlooking the plaza. Shojo had looked seriously at the young man he considered a son.

"He's a fine man, Malik," Shojo said, he had dropped the 'master' as soon as business hours had finished, "are you happy?"

Malik was taken aback to say the least. He knew Shojo was a shrewd old man, but that he could have discerned their relationship?

"He's...but..." Malik stammered, looking for some excuse, "how could you tell that I was...that we were..."

Shojo let out a hearty laugh as the teen continued to splutter in confusion, "Malik, my dear boy, by the looks the two of you kept sneaking across the table at one another, even a blind rabbit would be able to tell."

Malik blushed guiltily, "Are we really that obvious, Shojo?"

"Obvious to anyone that cares to look. But you're avoiding my question. Are you happy?"

Malik smiled, he had done that a lot tonight, "Yes, Shojo, I am happy. Happier than I could ever have imagined."

"I'm glad. Now, about these rent troubles," the old man winked at him, "I trust they've cleared up?"

"More or less," the boy laughed sheepishly, he knew his lie had been caught.

"That's good then." Shojo said, raising his cup. "A toast, young Master Ishtar, a toast to your happiness and in hope of continued good fortune." The old man declared solemnly, draining his sake. Malik did likewise.

"Thankyou, Mr. Hiroyasu. Thankyou for all you have ever done for me, One day I hope to be able to repay your every generosity in full."

"Each act was my greatest pleasure, Malik. Know that you are always welcome at our door."

With that the pair had shaken hands and retired, Shojo to the account room and Malik to his room, meeting Ryou at the base of the stairs.

* * *

Malik glanced at his watch, resting on top of the bedside table. It was 3:07, he knew he was desperately short of sleep, but for some reason, he wasn't tired. He sighed and draped an arm over Ryou, nuzzling into his neck as the smaller boy shifted in his sleep to be closer to Malik. It was odd; Ryou always seemed to know precisely where in the bed he was in relation to Malik and could be relied upon to toss and turn until he was as close as possible to him. Malik closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

_Touching sight, Malik. You and Ryou, huddled together, close as two peas in a pod._

_What? No. Go back to your darkness, fiend._

_But it's so lonely in there, little Malik. _Malik's hand slid down the length of Ryou's torso, seemingly of its own accord. _Why would I go back when I have the warmth of this boy to keep me company?_

_No...Stop that. Stay away from him._

_He's yours and I'm you. Doesn't that give me a right to be close to him? _Malik's hand had journeyed back up Ryou's body and was resting over the white-haired teen's heart. _His heart beats so strongly, little Malik. Is it because of you?_

_Don't touch him_

_I'm not touching him. You are._

_You know what I mean._

_He's offered you his heart and soul, Malik. Why don't you just...take it? _Marik snarled the last two words and the hand sprung up to form a cage over the boy's heart. Ryou gave a small yelp as Marik's fingernails; for Malik knew the hand was no longer his own, dug into his flesh. In desperation, Malik grabbed the wrist with his other hand and pried it away from his sleeping partner's body.

_I swear, Marik, if you touch him I'll..._

_You'll what, little Malik? What can you possibly do to me?_

_I'll kill myself. If you as much as move I'll slit my own throat._

Marik laughed then, a cruel harsh sound, mocking Malik's defiance. _So...to save the life of the one you love, you offer to take the life of the one he loves most? How delightfully sadistic of you, little Malik...how much like me..._

_I am nothing like you, Marik._

_I am you, Malik, thus you must be like me. Your little act of defiance there proved that, if misguidedly._

_It proved the very opposite of that! That 'little act of defiance' proved why I am the light. You would never sacrifice your own life for someone else._

_I would if there's a good chance that whoever it was done for would proceed to torture themselves to death in despair. Exactly what Ryou will do._

_Bakura wouldn't let him and well you know it._

_Wouldn't he? Or would Bakura also be overcome by grief?_

_Bakura's not human enough to grieve._

_Really? Then why has he grieved every passing second of the last five millennia? _

_That's different. Bakura couldn't give a rat's ass whether I lived or died._

Marik's hand slipped out of Malik's grasp and snatched the switchblade that had fallen out of Malik's pocket when he had shed his jeans. The hand flipped it out and brandished it threateningly

_Would you like to test that theory of yours, little Malik? Or would you rather pretty little Ryou be the first one to bleed? _The knife's edge caressed Ryou's cheek, the boy flinching away from the cold steel.

_I'll be damned if I let you touch one hair on his head, demon. _Malik dove on the hand holding the knife and threw himself off the bed, getting Marik out of range of Ryou. The resultant crash made the boy mutter in his sleep, but he did not wake up.

Marik's hand twisted and Malik had to swerve as he fell, missing the blade by inches.

_Dedicated, are we? Well, you'll have to do better than that, Malik, if you want to keep breathing. _Marik taunted as the hand he controlled slashed at Malik again, nicking his cheek.

Malik knew he had to do something, and do it quickly, before Marik overpowered him. His eyes desperately cast around the room and alighted on the balcony window. The balcony. If he could disarm Marik, he would be able to drive the spirit off. Catching his hostile hand mid-sweep, the athletic young Egyptian used the momentum to throw himself closer to the window.

_I told you, Marik, I would kill myself before I allowed any harm came to Ryou._

_Well then, _Marik sneered,_ I guess I'll just have to settle for killing you and letting Ryou off himself._

Using brute strength, Malik forced the blade up and under the latch of the window, opening it and causing the struggling boy to stumble through it.

_Why the hell do you want to kill me, Marik? What point does it serve if you are destroyed as well?_

_Because you refuse to take what could be yours. You refuse to take the thief-king's soul when it lies bare before you._

_Bakura isn't offering his soul..._

_Are you blind as well as stupid? Next time that thief talks to you, look into his eyes. If I can see it, you certainly should be able to._

_Even if you're right and I could take his soul, what good does it do you to kill me?_

_Who said anything about killing, little Malik? I'm just going to usurp your soul to get Bakura's power. I will have vengeance on the world that created me. _The knife Marik was holding began to glow ominously, a faint purple aura emanating from the weapon, and Malik realized what Marik was trying to do. Marik was created to kill the reincarnation of the Pharaoh and destroy the world, and the abomination was still hell-bent on doing just that, with or without Malik.

_I know you, demon, you will not succeed in your machinations, even if it costs me my life._ Malik spat as he propelled himself towards the railing.

_No...what are you doing, you fool?_

_Taking care of business,_ was Malik's only reply as he hit the railing, the switchblade falling out of Marik's hand and into the plaza below. His vision swam as he teetered precariously, seconds away from death.

_Then die_, came Marik's voice, quiet and dangerous, as Malik lost his balance.

* * *

Author's note: Oh noes...what's going to happen to Malik? I do, but no one else shall know for a whole week (or more, depending on how lazy I am) muhahahahahahahahahah. I don't know if Marik made much sense in this one, but basically he's stuck at square one (i.e. takeover/destroy the world, and kill Yugi) no matter what Malik does or how he changes, so he was not actually trying to kill Malik, just using a bit of shadow magic to get his character development out of the way. Please review, because if you didn't like what Marik was doing here, don't worry, he won't be anymore; if, on the other hand, you did like him, he'll be surfacing more with wacked out take-over-the-world schemes. Or if you want me to end it right now, I have the perfect next chapter for you xD

Cheers

T'ch'az

(Seriously though, the more you tell me, the more the story and I can improve.)


	5. You know me

Story Note: Here's the deal with this fic. It'll keep running as long as at least one person is enjoying it. So if you do like it, YOU NEED TO TELL ME :P.

DISCLAIMER: The plot of this story and some areas of Domino City are original. Yu-gi-oh is copyright of Kazuki Takahashi.

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As Malik began to fall, a hand wrapped itself firmly around his wrist and jerked him away from the edge of the balcony, spinning him as it did so. The hand belonged to Bakura, and Malik clung to him as he stumbled forward. The tanned boy pressed his face into Bakura's chest with a sigh of relief. The taller man drew him into an embrace, and Malik knew he was safe. His hands traced delicate patterns over Bakura's white body, appreciating its lithe suppleness and sculpted musculature, the very things that had saved him from an unpleasant fall. He had expected that his scuffle with Marik would have woken the spirit and knew that the spirit would step in to save him from harm.

What he was not expecting, however, was Bakura's knee reuniting itself with his groin.

Malik staggered backwards, doubled over and gasping for breath.

"Bakura, wha..." was all he managed to say before the white-haired man yanked him upright by his hair and delivered a sharp right hook that sent him spinning to the floor.

"What am I doing? What are you doing would be a better question." Bakura snarled as he gave Malik a solid kick in the ribs.

"Bakura, I..." Malik said as he rolled away from the spirit, trying to regain his feet.

"When, exactly, were you planning on telling us that _He_ was back?"

"I...I don't know what you're talking about, Bakura."

"Don't you? I take it, then, that I would be speaking to Marik?"

"Marik? What? No!" Malik said as he stood up, ready to defend himself from further attacks.

"Of course not. Marik would be putting up a fight." Bakura taunted as he threw an uppercut.

Malik jumped out of the way of Bakura's fist and tried to reason with him. "'Kura, please listen to me."

"What's there to listen to? Marik is back and you've been hiding him. Are you in cahoots with that psychopath, then?"

"I was going to tell you..."

"When, Malik? When were you going to tell me? After he had made his move? After he had committed his crimes?"

"Even if I had told you, what could you possibly have done? You were both sound asleep."

"If I had been asleep and oblivious to what was happening, you would currently be outside, face down on the footpath. Lucky for you, I was awake and I could work out what was going on."

"This time perhaps. What about tomorrow night, or the night after that, or sometime next week? You can't be on guard all day every day. Marik knows that as well, and from what I gathered, he's quite happy to wait before employing his master stroke." Malik decided to keep the workings of Marik's mind to himself. If Bakura knew that Marik was still bent on destroying the world, the ancient spirit would almost certainly take steps to stop him, steps that would have unfortunate consequences for all involved. Malik was even more determined to not let Bakura know that Marik was happy to play antagonist to him, and his mad-cap scheme to dominate and enslave Malik.

"If I knew Marik was conscious once more, I would be able to make sure he wouldn't catch us unprepared."

"Well now you know. I'm quite sure you'll be able to work out when Marik decides to make an appearance." Malik snorted, fed up with Bakura's arrogance that he and only he would be able to stop Marik.

Bakura pulled Malik closer, his voice softening into a deathly hush. "After the fact won't help anyone, Malik. You can't resist him forever, and once you give in, he will begin to commit atrocities."

"He can't dominate me completely, Bakura. As both of you are so fond of pointing out, he and I are the same person..."

"Which makes it all the easier for him to break you."

"...which means I will always be conscious, even under his control. Anything he tries will give me at least some warning."

"Provided anything he tries leaves time for warning. If you had been asleep, Marik could quite easily have killed all of us, and there's nothing you or I could have done that."

"I thought you said you were awake. A knife's blade would be the sort of thing that would prompt you to action, wouldn't it?"

"Only if my body is in a state that's capable of moving. If Ryou were dreaming, there's nothing I'd be able to do, no matter how conscious I am."

Malik gave a little cough of disbelief. "Funny, I remember you doing all sorts of things in that body whilst it should be immobilized when you were first possessing Ryou."

Bakura broke away from him, stepping back out of the moonlight, his face now half-covered in shadow. The image forcibly reminded Malik of the difference between Bakura and Ryou, and of Ryou's favourite card, the _change of heart_.

"What I did to Ryou was different. I'm a completely different person, both to Ryou and the way I was then. Marik, however, is you. He knows exactly what will break your will the fastest."

"He thinks he knows..."

"Then what was he trying to do tonight?"

"Trying to get a hug."

"Really?

"In a sense. He was taunting me about Ryou and was threatening to hurt him for his own sadistic pleasure.

Bakura nodded his understanding. "Even after that, you thought you should keep his existence a secret? What if you hadn't been able to stop him? What would you do if Ryou were now bleeding to death, killed by your hands, if not by your consciousness?"

Malik sighed and draped his arms around the older man's neck, resting his head on Bakura's shoulder, "But what can I do, 'Kura? What can you do to stop him?"

"I stood against him before, I'll do it again."

"But that killed you; I don't want to lose you like that again."

"I'll do whatever it takes to stop him from killing innocents."

"As I remember, you had no qualms about killing innocents for a very long time."

"Neither did you." Bakura replied pointedly.

"I've changed. I was young and foolish then."

"You still are."

Malik looked up, but instead of the sneer that would have accompanied the barb ordinarily, Bakura was smiling affectionately at him. "A good natured joke, Bakura?"

"Only the truth, Malik. You should get some sleep."

"So you're my mother now as well as a permanent resident in my boyfriend's soul?"

"You've had quite a few rough nights as it is. There's still long enough for you to get a decent amount of rest." Bakura gently rubbed a thumb underneath one of the slender Egyptian's eyes where black circles were definitely beginning to make themselves known. "We wouldn't want to mar perfection, after all."

Malik smiled, "I'm far from perfect, 'Kura."

"In Ryou's eyes you are and..." he hesitated, "and you should get some rest. Go, I'll keep watch over you and leave you in the care of Ryou.

Arms cradled around Malik, the spirit half-led, half-carried the boy towards the bed, waiting for him to crawl under the covers before climbing into bed as well. Malik snuggled up next to him and Bakura sighed and lightly kissed him on the forehead before transferring control to the sleeping Ryou and stepping out in ethereal form to watch the sleeping lovers, waiting for any sign of activity on Marik's behalf. Bakura's eye often fell on Malik, admiring the bronzed figure before he would shake his head reproachfully and return to his vigilance.

As Malik drifted into sleep, he heard Marik's malicious voice sneer from his secret hideaway deep within Malik's mind.

_I told you so._

_

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_

Author's note: First of all, one million billion apologies about the lack of updates. It's been what, a month or something? I blame life for getting in my way and my muse for being a jerkass that got bored with this story, but hey, I'll get back on track now, promise Also, I apologise for the shortness of the chapter, but this scene is pretty important and needs to be alone so people can pour over it and pick out the foreshadowing and pre-story context and all that jazz. xD I know it's probably going to seem like Bakura is OOC and he is kinda, but there's a very good reason for it, I swear. Any more questions or if you want to tell me how super-special-awesome it was, drop me a line, and if you want to write some hate mail, that's fine to.

Cheers

T'ch'az

(Seriously though, the more you tell me, the more the story and I can improve.)


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